


The Kitchen Table

by ganymedethemoon



Category: South Park
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Mentioned Kyle Broflovski/Kenny McCormick, Mildly Dubious Consent, One-Sided Kyman, Spanking, This is honestly horrible, dont read if you value your life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 11:39:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14471973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ganymedethemoon/pseuds/ganymedethemoon
Summary: “Bye...love ya,” Butters said sadly to himself, holding the phone to his ear for moments longer, hoping maybe Eric hadn’t really hung up and would say that he loved Butters back. He knew that wouldn’t happen. Nothing he hoped for ever happened.-------This is in no way wholesome full warning





	The Kitchen Table

**Author's Note:**

> Hey waddup its ya boi trash possum back at it with another horrible fic that I wrote instead of doing any of my responsibilities.

Butters was ultimately not that fond of cooking. He did it regardless. He didn’t have much of a choice on that regard either way. Eric claimed he liked Butters’ cooking, its one of the few compliments that ever left his mouth. They’d been dating for almost 6 years and still the blonde could scarcely remember any praises the other boy had given him. It was mostly criticisms.

“ _ Did you even clean today? The house looks like shit, Butters. _ ”

“ _ You burnt the fucking garlic bread, can you do anything right? _ ”

“ _ I bet you couldn’t suck my dick worse even if you tried. _ ” 

But there were times he was nice, or at least that’s what Butters insisted anytime someone questioned him. Usually Kyle. He was a frequent at the library where Butters worked part-time. Only part-time because he had to be a housewife for Eric too, he certainly didn’t have time to work full time then get home, clean the house, cook dinner and make sure Eric’s sexual needs were met. Kyle came to the library plenty, he checked out books for his University studying. He went to some semi-decent school up in Denver that his parents paid for half of. He still lived in South Park, commuting about an hour every time he had a class just so him, Kenny and Karen could all have a cute little house together. After all, it was certainly less expensive. Kenny didn’t want to drag Karen away from all her friends either, they had a life set up here in South Park, what was the point of leaving?

Kyle and Kenny are engaged. They are happy.

“Damn, Butters, you look like shit,” It was Kyle, like always. No one else really talked to him in public. Not that he was out much, unless it was grocery shopping or any other mundane adult-y thing. Butters didn’t particularly want to talk to Kyle, his work days were his break days, as odd as that sounds, and he wanted to spend it without the interruption or thought of Kyle Broflovski. Don’t misinterpret, Butters certainly didn’t hate or even dislike Kyle, heavens no, he was just a reminder of Butters inadequacy. A reminder that he was the second choice. And likely still would be. Even after 6 years of dating.

“Oh, ‘m just fine Kyle, don’t go on worrying about me,” Butters brushed away Kyle’s concern as easily as he always did, he didn’t need others worrying about him anyhow. 

“I can’t help it, Butters, you look worse every time I see you. I can just imagine what dating Cartman has done to your mental state.” Kyle paused. “You do know he doesn’t call you his boyfriend, right? Kenny told me I probably shouldn’t mention this, but I feel you should know. You’re a good person Butters, you deserve a lot better than Eric fucking Cartman.” Of course Butters knew Eric didn’t call him his boyfriend. How could he not, so many people had told him. Christ, Eric had done it with Butters present before. He had gone home and cried in the shower that night.

“He’s bein’ modest,” Butters said quickly, barely thinking about what he was saying. He was trying to reshelf books but he wasn’t even sure if he was doing it right anymore. He really couldn’t do anything right. Aside making Spaghetti Carbonara, maybe he would make that for dinner today. He didn’t want to disappoint Eric tonight, well he never did, but he really wanted to avoid it this evening. 

“Cartman has never been modest a day in his life and you know it. Just admit it Butters, he’s ruining your life. You could’ve gone to university, you had the grades to. You could be working here full time. Y’know me and Ken would let you stay at our place for a while until you could get a place on your own-” 

“Kyle!” Butters said a little too loudly for a library, instantly turning red and speaking the next words softer than he needed to. “It’s not your business, me an’ Eric are just fine where we are. We’re happy,  _ I’m _ happy.” Butters wasn’t sure if he was convincing Kyle or himself anymore. 

“Just think long and hard about if you  _ really _ are Butters. And call Kenny sometime, he misses talking to you,” Kyle said softly, almost as if he were talking to a child. Butters was no child. Butters blushed darker at the mention of Kenny. And felt bad for it, especially in the presence of his fiance. Kyle left after this, and the blonde didn’t watch him go, just kept putting books back. One after the other. One at a time. He focused on that so he wouldn’t think about Kyle. Or Eric. Or Kenny. Or anyone. Just the task at hand.

“ _ Fuck,  _ Kyle  _ keep going. _ ”

Butters shaked the memory out of his head and the tears out of the corner of his eyes. Just keep shelving.

 

* * *

 

It was 4:12 when he got home. 30 minutes later than he normally is, he used up the last of his bus tickets. He would have to call Eric and see if he would get some on his way home. That and more milk, Butters underestimated how much they would use this week. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too mad, this would also mean Eric would take longer getting home, meaning Butters would have more time to cook dinner, so it wouldn’t be late. 

Butters pulled the home phone off from its perch on the side table beside the couch. That had been a gift from Liane, she was always one to spoil Eric, and the couch was no exception. Butters dialed Eric’s cell phone number with practiced ease, it was the only number he could remember off by heart. Or at least that’s what he would say if asked.

“The fuck do you want?” Eric all but growled in greeting.

“Sorry to bother you Eric, but on your way home coulda pick up some more bus tickets an’ milk. We’re out.” Butters said carefully, his voice was soft and slightly shaky with fear. 

He heard Eric sigh heavily. “Yeah, sure, whatever, is that all?” He asked, Butters could almost hear the eye roll he was sure Eric was giving.

“Yeppers! See ya later ta-night,” Butters said chirpily, trying to sound happier than he felt.

“Uh-huh, bye,” Eric muttered quickly, hanging up right after.

“Bye...love ya,” Butters said sadly to himself, holding the phone to his ear for moments longer, hoping maybe Eric hadn’t really hung up and would say that he loved Butters back. He knew that wouldn’t happen. Nothing he hoped for ever happened. 

He put the phone down carefully and moved to the kitchen robotically. He turned the radio on, leaving it on the generic pop channel that played the same dozen songs every hour, that didn’t matter, it was just background noise anyhow. He moved throughout the kitchen without thought, turning the stove on and grabbing at ingredients. He put the pasta on to cook and went at making up some sort of side dish. He was glad to see some frozen tater tots in the freezer and tossed them into the oven, caring little about how well the two would go together. He could barely think at all. 

While things were cooking he went around trying to straighten up the house to the best of his ability before his boyfriend got home. He couldn’t do much with the constant need to check on the progress of the food, but he certainly couldn’t just leave the house in a state of disaster. Of course state of disaster just meant a few things were out of place and a quick vacuuming couldn’t hurt. But when you’ve been conditioned to a pristine environment, anything out of place was the end of the world.

It was 5:49 when Eric got home, Butters was just setting the table as he barged through the door. “Butters come get your stupid bus tickets,” Eric all but yelled throughout the small house. He slammed the front door behind him, making Butters jump despite himself. He almost dropped the plate he was holding, he was glad he didn’t. 

“One second d-” Butters stuttered for a moment, stopping himself from calling Eric dear, he didn’t like pet names, he had made that abundantly clear a long time ago. “Eric!” Butters said quickly, doing a shoddy attempt at fixing his mistake. Eric wasn’t the wiser however, or if he was he didn’t say anything.

He finished setting the table and rushed out to the living room, where Eric had already made himself comfortable on the couch. His shoes were still on his feet, which were placed lazily on the coffee table as he reclined. He was swiping on his phone and pointed down to his work bag on the floor next to him when the blonde had entered the room. Butters half scrambled embarrassingly to the floor, opening the main pocket and pulled out a small jug of milk and the two strips of bus tickets Eric had gotten. They were slightly damp having been in the same pocket as the cold milk, they were still functional, though, and that’s all that mattered.

“‘m just gonna put these in my backpack and then we’ll have dinner, okay?” Butters said smiling, a smile which persisted despite the lackluster answer he got. That answer being nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgement. He rushed to their bedroom and carefully put his bus tickets inside his wallet, which was lacking anything aside his emergency $5, Eric didn’t let him carry money unless it came to grocery shopping. 

When he returned to the kitchen Eric was already sitting at their little two person table, that could be extended to be a four person table, not that they ever had, they didn’t have the chairs for that anyway. He brought over the prepared food and served Eric a heavy portion, leaving little for himself, that was fine, he didn’t eat much anyway. 

They ate with little conversation, Butters kept trying to ask about his day but was brushed off everytime. Butters knew he could start a conversation very easily.

_ “I saw Kyle at work today again.” _

_ “What’d that jew rat want?” _

_ “He...just kept asking if I was okay. Then told me I should call Kenny sometime.” _

_ “Why would you want to talk to that asshole?” _

_ “I-I don’t know.” _

_ “Don’t call him, Butters.” _

_ “I won’t.” _

But Butters didn’t want to have a conversation about Kyle. Not now. Not after he had just seen him, he was so gosh darn tired of Kyle. So he didn’t tell Eric about his conversation with Kyle today.

“ _ Fuck,  _ Kyle  _ keep going. _ ”

Butters clenched his fork tighter in his hand, shovelling the pasta in his mouth, hoping he could drown the memory in creamy pasta. But nothing he hoped for ever happened. 

Eric sighed loudly and unceremoniously threw his utensils down on his plate the loud clatter it made causing Butters to jump for the second time that evening. “Y-you alright, Eric?” Butters asked cautiously easing out of his chair to begin cleaning up.

“Fuck if I know,” He paused for a moment, rapping his knuckles against the polished wood of the dining table. Butters continued collecting the dirty dishes and put them in the sink, he would wash them later, right now his attention was focused on his boyfriend, who seemed to be having some kind of dilemma.

“Come’re,” Eric said simply, rotating in his chair to face the shorter male, who was just slightly above his height when he was sitting. Butters scuttled quickly across the cold, tiled floor to stand in front of the brunet. Eric grabbed swiftly at Butters soft plaid shirt and pulled him into a kiss. It was sloppy and Butters could tell Eric wasn’t into it, the blonde picked up the slack. He crawled into Erics lap and wrapped his arms around the other’s neck, pushing his lips harder against him. 

Tongues were soon found wrestling against each other, a fight in which Butters was quickly losing. His moment of dominance was shortly lived as Eric began taking control of the situation. He grabbed at Butters hips lifting him up and back down, grinding their clothed groins against each other. The blonde could feel himself get hard as the friction between the two of them got more frantic. 

Eric pulled his lips from the other, who tried to follow as his head moved back. “I’m gonna spank the shit outta you, then I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a weak,” Eric rumbled into Butters’ ear.

A pathetic whine left Butters’ mouth before he could speak, “Please, sir.” He pushed his hips down lazily, attempting to get the friction he was ever-so-enjoying back. Butters wondered momentarily if they were even going to move to the bedroom, or if Eric was just going to bend him over the kitchen table and fuck him here. There was some scattered crumbs littering the table so the blonde hoped that they would move to the comfort of their bed. At least there Butters stomach didn’t hurt so much after laying on it for long. Butters was more into the quick pain of being slapped, pinched and a multitude of other things, but the annoying soreness of an uncomfortable position was certainly something he was not particular to.

But the things he hoped for never happened.

Eric lifted Butters almost effortlessly onto the dining table. Butters wondered when he had gotten as strong as he was. Was he even strong? Or was Butters just extremely lightly, he supposed that wasn’t out of the question. Butters was swiftly turned around and positioned properly, his toes just barely brushing against the ground as he was bent over the table. His hip bones were stabbed uncomfortably by the edge of the wood, but he wouldn’t complain, he didn’t want to ruin Eric’s fun. His pants and underwear were pulled down just as quickly as he had been put on the table and he felt Eric’s hands gripping tightly onto his ass cheeks. 

“Count.” Was the only warning he got before the first blow landed angrily against his ass. Butters couldn’t help the yelp that came from his mouth, wishing he had something to grip onto, he ended up just clawing slightly against the grain.

“One,” he strangled out, only one hit in and he was already this undone. It took five more before he started to cry, the numbers coming from his mouth becoming more and more sloppy as they fell from his lips. It hurt, it hurt like hell but he was fine, he was okay, he didn’t mind being the way Eric got out his aggression, there were certainly worse ways he could be doing it. It took ten more hits after that for Eric to seem content with the state Butters was in, as well as the colouring his ass had taken. It was fiery compared to the rest of his pale skin, standing out in such stark contrast. 

“Fuck,” Eric grumbled as he patted around in his pants pockets. “I’ll be back in a second, don’t you dare fucking move,” it was a threat, what would happen to Butters if he did move left up to interpretation. He knew punishments could get a lot worse then just some simple spanking, there was a reason they had a whip, lurking in their closet behind the mess of clothing and other garbage. So despite the fact his legs were cramping and his hips were rubbed raw, he stayed put, still crying. 

It felt like years before Eric came back, a small bottle in his hand. He zipped down his fly and pulled his cock through, easily covering it with lube and pushed it against Butters hole. He bottomed out quickly, and sat for a moment, giving Butters’ the courtesy of adjusting to the intrusion. He began thrusting as soon as Butters gave a small nod of his head as conformation. The fabric of his pants rubbed uncomfortably against the blonde’s already sore cheeks, the button stabbing occasionally too. Butters wasn’t even sure if he was even still hard anymore, it didn’t matter, Eric probably wouldn’t jerk him anyway  _ or  _ let him jerk himself. 

Eric was loud, he always was. He constantly tried to muffle it though, biting roughly on his bottom lip to keep his noise muffled. Eric was almost incoherent during sex anyhow, mumbling absolute nonsense as he pounded into the smaller. Or maybe he did saw sensical things, Butters wouldn’t listen anymore, for fear of what he would hear.

Butters made a soft sobbing noise in the back of his throat. And if he was having sex with someone who wanted to be having sex with him, maybe they would’ve stopped and double checked to make sure he was okay. But Eric wouldn’t. Butters had a safeword anyhow, not that he would ever use it. He could just tell how annoyed Eric would be if he did. 

And then Eric did the one thing Butters feared most and he wished he had been tuning the larger out better.

“ _ Kyle _ ,” Eric moaned out the name of the person both of them knew he would much rather be fucking, as he came. And this time Butters couldn’t pretend he didn’t hear it. Eric pulled out zipping himself back up and stepping away from Butters to let him get down on unstable legs. Butters tried to stand as he slipped from the table, but he just collapsed to the floor. He was sobbing, his hands were covering his eyes as tears ran freely down his face.

“Shit, Butters, you alright?” Eric asked cautiously. Butters couldn’t tell if he actually cared or if he was just asking for the sake of common decency. Wasn’t sex supposed to be special? Weren’t you supposed to enjoy it? Weren’t you supposed to moan the name of the person you’re actually fucking, and not the name of your supposed best friend fiance? The blonde wasn’t sure anymore. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Butters didn’t answer, he just collapsed further in on himself. He could feel Erics cum leak slowly from his ass and onto the floor, he would have to clean that up later. He would have to clean the dishes later. The bathtub could use a scrubbing too. The whole house was due for a dusting as well. He should be doing that. He should be being a good boyfriend for Eric, instead of crying on the floor after being fucked. Maybe then Eric would love him back. Maybe then Eric would moan his name when he came.

Eric said something. Butters couldn’t hear anymore. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t tell where he was. There was shuffling and the front door opened and closed. Butters placed his hands palms down on the tile of the floor, attempting to ground himself. His eyes blurry from crying he looked around the kitchen and listened for any sound of Eric. He was pretty sure he had left. Leave it to Eric to leave the house when Butters was stuck sobbing on the kitchen floor. 

He pulled himself up into a standing position and shoved his pants back on, caring little for the cum still seeping out of him. Butters wished more than ever he had his own cell phone. But according to Eric he didn’t need one, they couldn’t afford it, not with the extensive cable package they had. Eric had to be able to access everything. Which meant less for Butters.

He slumped slowly across the floor until he reached the home phone. He held it in his arms staring at and debating if he really wanted to do this. Eric would hate him. Eric would really never love him. But Butters wasn’t sure he ever would. With tears still fogging his vision he dialed the only other number he had memorized. It rang twice before a familiar cheery voice answered with the same enthusiasm he always had. “Hey!”

“Kenny,” Butters sobbed into the phone, “please help.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I am honestly so tired that was exhausting to write  
> And its late  
> And I have shit I still need to get done  
> Why am I like this


End file.
